To Be Loved
by MistressOfImladris
Summary: Some people's lives started out wonderfully, and continued that way. Others were perfect and changed. But even if that happens, it is still possible to find great joy...


**To Be Loved**

By MistressOfImladris

The newborn let out a piercing cry as he was dunked into the warm water. Born barely fifteen minutes before, it was his first bath, and the baby was still attempting to switch from the warm, quiet comfort of his mother's body to this loud, cold world.

'Hush now, my prince,' crooned the woman washing him. 'You will be able to eat in a few minutes.'

True to her word, the nurse handed the baby to his mother once he was warmly swaddled. The new mother smiled radiantly, light shining from her tired eyes. 'Is he not beautiful, dearest?' she asked, looking up at her husband.

 _ **1 year later...**_

The one-year-old prince gurgled as he pulled himself up to stand on his chubby legs. 'Me-me!' he crowed.

His older brother turned to look at him. 'What is it, little brother?'

The child stomped his foot and frowned, tears springing to his eyes. 'Me-me!'

His brother smiled at him. Again the child laughed. Then, concentrating hard, he placed his right foot in front of his left. He let of the chair he had been clinging to and took another step.

His parents and brother watched his joyously. The toddler glanced up at his mother and smiled, showing five teeth. At the same moment, he wobbled and his knees buckled. Unceremoniously, he collapsed in a heap on the floor.

 _ **3 years later...**_

The toddler had just turned four. But instead of running around, the boy and his brother sat quietly in the room, one fiddling with his wooden sword, the other half-heartedly acting out a duel between two wooden soldiers.

Moments passed. Finally the door opened and a grey-haired woman stepped out. She went to kneel in front of the boys and said solemnly, 'Your mother is dead, my dears. You may go into the room now, if you wish.'

The boys rose slowly. Neither showed a stitch of emotion. Upon entering the room, they saw their father holding the hand of his dead wife. Yet no tears were on his cheeks or in his eyes.

What family was this, where in the midst of so great a loss, no sorrow was shown?

 _ **5 years later...**_

'I am sorry, Father,' the now nine-year-old cried. 'I did not mean to do it!'

'No, of course you did not,' his father growled. 'Nonetheless, it happened! Now go to your room and think over your bad behaviour!'

Sadly the boy walked away.

 _ **7 years later...**_

The boy – or rather, the young man – walked solemnly out of his room. The strange, new outfit he was wearing sat stiffly against his tall slender body.

It did, however, cause his to walk smoothly, with his shoulders straight instead of slumping.

'Well, brother! You are one of us!' His brother appeared from around the corner.

The young man nodded, smiling slightly. 'Yes, I am one of you now.'

His brother glanced at him. 'Mother would be so proud to see you.'

 _ **Many years later...**_

The young man, now in his late twenties, stood sadly beside his brother's horse.

'You will come back, will you not?' he asked hesitantly.

His brother laughed. 'Of course I will!' he said jovially. 'How dangerous can my mission be?'

'I do not know,' the younger man answered. 'And for that reason, I fear.'

 _ **A few months later...**_

Weeks had passed, turning into months, and his beloved brother had yet to return from the untamed wild. The man struggled not to lose hope.

That night, the moon was full. Near midnight, the man made his way through the halls of his home.

'And where may you be off to, if I may ask?'

The man started, then turned towards the voice. 'The moonlight calls, Father. Did you wish something of me?'

'Nay, I did not,' his father replied, stepping from the shadows. 'Be off with you.'

 _ **2 weeks later...**_

The trees were uneasy. Oh, how the man wished he could understand their whisperings!

'My lord, look to the West!' a low voice spoke at his side.

The man looked, following the tin spiral of smoke as it rose in the sky.

 _ **A month later...**_

In a daze, the man opened his mouth to give the order to charge.

 _It should be my brother leading this desperate battle!_ he thought. But his brother, like his mother, had been taken from him. _Why is everyone so cold with me?_ he asked himself. _Will I never be loved?_

Soon after this lonely thought, something thudded into his chest. Warmth swiftly followed.

'At last!' the man silently cried as he sank to the ground. 'I will be reunited with my brother!'

 _ **7 days later...**_

Heat surrounded him, stifling him, rendering his unable to breathe.

His mind wandered until through ringing ears, he heard one voice which he knew. With a great effort, he forced his eyes open and parted his lips.

'Father!'

 _ **Several days later...**_

The man looked out of the window, into the gardens.

There she was, radiant and cold, standing lone like a queen of old. The White Lady, she was called.

But she was as cold as anyone else. He had still to find love.

 _ **8 days later...**_

They stood together on the wall, the White Lady and the man, and it seemed to the healers that each other's company healed them better than the medicines they were made to drink.

Slowly, as though the couple were unaware of the gesture, their hands met and clasped.

And finally, the man realised, he had found love again, in the coldest of maidens.

He smiled. _And love has found me._

The End


End file.
